


Slow Steps, Going Places

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen is oblivious, Dorian facepalming, Facing the past, Fluff, Hawke being Hawke, M/M, Mentions of addiction, Tiny bit of Angst, Varric is a liar, and moving on towards the future, background Dorian/Inquisitor, but not that oblivious, mentions of Cullen's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: Garrett Hawke is confusing, Cullen is oblivious, Dorian spends his time facepalming and Varric is a liar an unreliable narrator. Or in other words, Cullen is adamant Hawke is not courting him no matter what it looks like, Dorian is adamant he is because that is what it looks like, Hawke is indeed courting Cullen, though it might have helped if he'd told Cullen that, and Varric is a liar an unreliable narrator.
Much thanks to Unavoidedcrisis for the beta!





	Slow Steps, Going Places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Space_aged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_aged/gifts).



> This comes perilously close to being the sitcom romance episode of Skyhold but I reined myself in. Mostly.

Having Garrett Hawke around Skyhold was confusing to say the least. Cullen had only had sporadic contact with the apostate mage in Kirkwall and most of that had been at least somewhat adversarial. He’d been expecting a continuation of that when Hawke arrived in Skyhold and had braced himself to at least try and be polite in the face of whatever Hawke chose to say and do. He had the good of the Inquisition to consider, after all, and he’d long ago decided that his personal problems were not going to get in the way of the Inquisition’s work.

However, while Hawke had been a little wary at their first meeting in the War Room, he’d soon relaxed and even given Cullen a friendly clap on the shoulder when the meeting had finally ended. Cullen would admit to being somewhat nonplussed by that, but ultimately satisfied that there weren’t going to be problems between the two of them.

If things had been left at that, Cullen would have been more than satisfied. That, however, did not seem to be the case and he was rapidly becoming very confused. Hawke seemed to be… well, everywhere that Cullen was. He lurked around the edges of the training field when he was running the recruits through their paces. He somehow managed to talk his way into the War Room meetings and Cullen wasn’t able to object since Hawke offered helpful and insightful comments. What was more, he seemed to take _Cullen’s_ side more often than not and that tended to leave him wondering when the sword was going to fall.

The strangest thing of all was that Hawke had taken to bringing over meals when Cullen missed lunch or dinner. He would linger as Cullen ate and make awkward comments about the weather or the office roof or, on one memorable occasion, Cullen’s furred mantle before fleeing the room with a sudden flail of his hands and a garbled excuse. It was utterly bizarre and Cullen had been worried at first that Hawke was trying to make a fool of him in some way in retaliation for his behaviour while he’d been a Templar in Kirkwall. Nothing ever happened though and now Cullen was just baffled.

He tried asking a few people whether they knew what was going on but Leliana and Josephine just giggled at him, Cassandra had sighed, given him a disgruntled look and then hit him even harder with her sword and Trevelyan had simply clapped him in the shoulder and grinned at him, telling him he’d understand if he really thought about it. None of those responses had been even remotely helpful and only made him feel extremely obtuse, something he complained about to Dorian at their weekly chess game.

Dorian arched an eyebrow at him and looked far too amused for Cullen’s peace of mind. “You really have no idea?”

Cullen rolled his eyes as he considered his move. “I’m not _that_ stupid, Dorian. I know what everyone’s assuming, but they’re wrong. Hawke doesn’t like me. He doesn’t _hate_ me and Maker knows how that’s true, but I’ll take it. However, he doesn’t like me either.”

He moved one of his pawns then looked up when Dorian made a snorting sound. The mage was covering his mouth with one hand and his eyes were gleaming with amusement.

“You _cannot_ be that oblivious, Commander,” Dorian said. “I refuse to believe that.”

Cullen leaned back in his chair and sighed. “He knew me at my worst, Dorian. I just consider myself lucky that he’s not undermining me.”

Dorian moved one of his knights, seemingly without even looking at the board. Cullen knew better though. Dorian was one of the trickiest opponents he’d ever played against, though that was as much because of his cheating as because of his ability.

“Cullen,” Dorian said patiently. “He ogles you when you’re sparring with Cassandra. He stands there looking approving and stern, subtly backing you up when you’re training the recruits. Maxwell tells me he keeps taking your side in the War Room. _And_ …” He held up one finger. “…he’s been bringing you meals. Even you cannot possibly say he’s indifferent to you.”

“He fusses over everyone,” Cullen said with a dismissive wave of one hand as he contemplated the board. “You should have seen what he was like with his friends, even the ones he didn’t agree with.”

Dorian threw his hands in the air with a frustrated noise. “Ugh! I give up. You actually _are_ that oblivious.”

Cullen ignored that and made a move that managed to distract Dorian entirely. He knew what Hawke’s behaviour looked like but it couldn’t be that. He and Hawke might have parted on amicable terms but even that might be a generous way of putting it, if you looked at the wider picture. It was entirely possible that Hawke was mocking him in some way, in which case he was better off ignoring it and pretending to be oblivious. He didn’t _think_ Hawke would be that cruel but he didn’t have the strength to take the chance. It took all he had to get up in the morning, to make it through the day and to resist the call of the blue liquid in that little vial in the bottom drawer of his desk. It took all he had to rebuild himself from what had happened to him in Kinloch and what he’d subsequently done in Kirkwall. He wasn’t sure he had to strength to rebuild himself from deliberate cruelty on top of all of that.

All of which made the book sitting on his desk when he returned to his office more of an enigma than a tome on military history really ought to be. There was a card tucked into the cover and when he walked over to his desk, he saw that it was a book he had mentioned in passing to Trevelyan. If he remembered correctly, it was during one of the dinners he’d actually managed to get to shortly after Hawke had arrived. 

Cullen sat down at his desk and picked up the book. He opened the cover and pulled out the card so he could read it.

_Cullen,_

_I heard you talking about this book with Trevelyan and I remembered Xenon had a copy. Hope you enjoy it._

_Hawke._

Xenon the Antiquarian. Cullen hadn’t even thought about making an enquiry through the Inquisitor with that strange individual. He’d also forgotten that Hawke had been invited to the Black Emporium years ago. That must have been where Hawke disappeared to a few weeks ago. He’d thought it was some sort of business with the Warden Stroud. Clearly it hadn’t been. He also hadn’t been aware that the apostate mage had even heard him talk about the book, let alone that he would remember and find a copy.

“That is the right one, wasn’t it?”

Cullen looked up to find Hawke standing in the doorway, looking rather hopeful.

“I… yes,” Cullen said. “Yes, it is. Thank you.”

Hawke smiled. “Good.” He shifted from foot to foot and stared down at the floor for a moment. “Um…”

“I didn’t know you’d heard me,” Cullen said with the sudden silence stretched out to the point where even he found it uncomfortable.

Hawke’s eyes widened. “I always pay attention to you.”

Cullen put the book down and managed a wry smile. “I hope that hasn’t always been the case. I was an absolute arse in Kirkwall.”

“Yeah, you were,” Hawke said in a blunt tone that made Cullen’s heart fall a little. “But Trevelyan tells me there was a reason for that, though he wouldn’t say what it was.” He gave Cullen a look. “Not that you have to tell me either. It was just nice to know you weren’t like that Alrik I heard so much about.”

Cullen grimaced at the mention of Alrik. “Even Meredith wouldn’t abide his attitude after a while. She had him transferred.”

“So, that’s what happened to him,” Hawke said, rocking on his heels a bit. “I guess even Meredith wasn’t all bad.”

Cullen wasn’t quite sure what to say to that but before he actually had to find a coherent response, the door to the battlements opened and a scout came in.

“Commander! I have the reports from Scout Harding you requested.”

“I’ll, uh, let you get on with it then,” Hawke said then he gave a quick nod and disappeared out of the door and towards the keep.

Cullen watched him go with a puzzled frown, then turned his attention to the scout.

*****

Three days later, Cullen returned to his office from a particularly fruitless War Room meeting to find a small chest sitting in the middle of his desk. There was a neatly folded note on top of it and Cullen picked it up and opened it.

_Cullen,_

_I noticed you’ve been having pretty terrible headaches. I hope these can help._

_Hawke_

He opened the chest and found a number of potion vials, each neatly labelled in Hawke’s writing with the contents and instructions for use. He looked at the note and chest for a moment then he smiled. So this was what it must have been like being a friend of Hawke’s in Kirkwall. It was certainly interesting. Hawke apparently had a mothering streak a mile wide.

Cullen chuckled and tucked the note into the chest and set both on the side of his desk. He wasn’t sure if the potions would have any effect on the lyrium withdrawal headaches but he was certainly willing to give them a try.

*****

As if the acceptance of the chest of potions had been a signal, the gifts began appearing on his desk with startling regularity. They were always small and not always personal – one could hardly call a plate of the sugar biscuits he preferred _personal_ after all – but they always came with a note indicating that Hawke had noticed he liked this or preferred that or was missing the other from his collection. If it had been anyone other than Hawke, he’d almost have thought he was being courted.

When he voiced that sentiment to Dorian over their chess game, the mage stared at him for a moment then covered his face with one hand and laughed helplessly.

“Maker bless,” he said with a shake of his head. “Cullen, _please_. You _are_ being courted. _Everyone_ can see that he’s courting you. Your soldiers are so charmed by it that they’re going out of their way to _help_ him court you. _Josephine_ has been sighing about how romantic it is for days now. _I’ve_ been pouting at Maxwell because he never courted me and I’m feeling terribly distressed about that.”

Cullen arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you seem terribly distressed about that.”

“Uh-uh,” Dorian said, waving a finger at him. “You are not going to distract me that easily.” He sobered and stared at Cullen as though assessing something only he could see. When he continued, it was in a softer, concerned tone. “My dear Cullen, _why_ are you refusing to believe that Hawke is courting you?”

Cullen felt a little trapped and he shifted uneasily in his seat. “He and I… we don’t exactly have the best past together. Maker, Dorian, the things I said to him.”

“That was then, this is now.” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t think Hawke is able to see that you have changed, then you are selling the man rather short.”

“He never showed any interest before.”

“Hardly surprising given what you say about your past,” Dorian shrugged. “But why wouldn’t he do so now? You’re a handsome man, Commander. No doubt he noticed that before but your poor manner put him off. Now that the inside matches the outside, why, he probably thinks you’re quite the catch.” He leered at Cullen amiably. “And I have to say I agree. If Maxwell hadn’t swept me off my feet, I might have made a move myself.”

Cullen blushed and stared down at the chess board. While he could tell that Dorian was teasing, there was also an edge of seriousness about him that told him the mage was telling the truth.

“The question is,” Dorian said, gaining Cullen’s attention again, “do you like him or not?”

“I…” Cullen swallowed and clasped his hands in his lap, staring down at them as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I used to envy him, you know? Back in Kirkwall. He always seemed so sure of himself, so fearless. An apostate mage, walking openly around the city, defying Meredith at every turn. I used to envy his courage. Back then I felt I had no courage at all, so how could I not?”

“I refuse to believe you were ever a coward, Cullen,” Dorian said softly. “There is a difference between losing one’s way temporarily and cowardice. A coward never faces what they fear, a coward always runs and a coward never tries to be better.”

Cullen was silent as he considered that. He wanted to believe it. Maker knows he wanted to believe it but it was hard to do so.

“I used to envy his friends too. He always _cared_ so much about them, even when he was bickering with them about whatever it was they disagreed about. He’d bend over backwards for them, do anything for them.” He grimaced. “That… didn’t work out so well with Anders but the others…”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Dorian said.

“I… I’ve never let myself think about it,” Cullen replied. “He used to frustrate and annoy me, make me feel angry and ashamed.”

“That was then. What about now? He’s a regular at the War Room meetings or so I’ve been told. Not to mention all the little gifts he’s been giving you.”

“I… haven’t thought about it.” He huffed when Dorian gave him a sceptical look. “I truly haven’t.”

“Rubbish. You must have some sort of opinion. At least on whether or not you like him.”

“I… I do,” Cullen said after a few moments.

“Well then,” Dorian said, leaning forward to move his Divine on the board. “That’s something to think about at least.”

Cullen made a noncommittal noise as he stared at the chess board. Not that his mind was entirely on the game. Now that Dorian had poked and prodded, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Hawke and how he felt and what he wanted. It gave Dorian the victory in their game but Cullen didn’t mind so much. He had a great deal to ponder.

*****

Cullen walked along the battlements, nodding to the patrolling soldiers as he passed them. It was late at night and he knew he should be trying to get some sleep. That was something that had been in short supply since he’d stopped taking lyrium. His nights were more often than not infested with nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat if he was lucky and a strangled scream if he wasn’t. Tonight, however, it wasn’t the nightmares that were keeping him awake, it was everything Dorian had said to him and the way it was rattling around his mind.

He hadn’t been lying to Dorian when he’d said he’d never thought about how he felt about Hawke, other than the mild irritation and exasperation the man had conjured every time he’d seen him walking into the Gallows. He’d never bothered to think any further about the man. He hadn’t been in any sort of fit state for that kind of thing back then and once he was, well, he wasn’t in Kirkwall anymore and neither was Hawke. Besides, he’d always thought that Hawke had been involved with Anders. They’d certainly seemed close enough, though he supposed that since Hawke had apparently slipped a knife between the apostate’s ribs after the Chantry explosion, he must have been wrong about that.

He stopped and leaned against one of the crenulations, looking out into the darkness. All of that was in the past so now he had to ask himself the question of just what he did feel for the mage who had been simultaneously the bane of his existence in Kirkwall and the voice of conscience that he’d so desperately needed. The man was certainly handsome enough in a burly, bearded sort of fashion. He was used to mages being more slim and slender but he liked Hawke’s bulk and solidity.

Hawke was an unmitigated smartarse, which had driven him mad in Kirkwall. But now when he looked back on it, he had to admit that Hawke’s sense of humour was… _awful_. Funny in its way, but also just really _terrible_. He chuckled softly at the thought. How Varric and the others had put up with it without throwing things at the man’s head was beyond him. And he’d really only gotten the barest taste of it. He wondered how much worse it was when he actually liked you. He hadn’t really unleashed it fully here in Skyhold. He’d seemed too worried and preoccupied, not an unusual state of affairs for people in the stronghold.

“And here I thought I was the only one who couldn’t sleep.”

Cullen gave a start, his hand dropping automatically to where the hilt of his sword might have been had he been wearing it. Then the voice registered and he relaxed and turned slightly.

“I doubt we’re the only ones still up, Hawke.”

“I wasn’t talking about your soldiers,” Hawke replied, waving a hand towards the main building.

Cullen glanced over his shoulder then straightened and frowned. It must be later than he’d thought. Even the lights in the library and Leliana’s rookery were dark and both she and Dorian were night owls.

“Ah,” he said, one hand rising to rub at the back of his neck. “You might be right.”

Hawke came over and leaned against the opposite crenulation. “So what’s keeping you up tonight?” he paused and grinned. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Cullen cursed himself for blushing at the ham-fisted innuendo. He certainly couldn’t tell Hawke the truth and he wasn’t really sure what he could say. He obviously hesitated for too long because Hawke’s grin slipped off his face.

“It’s okay if you want to tell me to keep my nose out of your business,” Hawke said wryly. “You wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last. It’s just…” He scratched at his beard. “Well, both Varric and Cassandra have been tippy-toeing around _something_ about you and I have no idea what it is, just that it makes both of them glare at me and give me all sorts of warnings about behaving myself and not making things worse.”

“Ah,” Cullen said, feeling both startled and rather warmed by Cassandra and Varric’s concern. He’d be worried about Varric knowing except the dwarf had undoubtedly seen more than one Templar going through withdrawal in Kirkwall. Varric was sharp enough to be able to put two and two together and come up with four. “No, it’s… fine. I… I stopped taking lyrium. It doesn’t make for restful nights.”

Hawke frowned at him. “Isn’t that dangerous? I saw what it was doing to Samson, not to mention other former Templars.”

“It is,” Cullen said. “But I would rather face that risk than stay shackled to a Chantry I can no longer support.”

He found himself on the receiving end of a piercing look, then Hawke nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” He smiled faintly. “You know, you’ve come a long way from the Templar I first met. I wasn’t terribly impressed with him, but you… you’re a man worth knowing.”

“I’d feel offended except I know you’re right,” Cullen admitted with a sigh. “I was in the Ferelden Circle when it fell.”

He wasn’t sure quite why he’d admitted that to Hawke and he felt even more unsure when he suddenly had that intent look directed at him again. Hawke drew in a sharp breath and his eyes widened. He was clearly thinking furiously and then he paled and made an aborted move towards Cullen.

“Wait, that was _you_?” Hawke whispered. “Anders told me about what happened. He’d gotten the story from the Hero of Fereldan herself. There was one Templar left alive in the Circle, trapped below the Harrowing Chamber. That was… you?”

Cullen winced. He’d forgotten that Anders had known Solona Amell. He licked his lips. “Yes.”

Now, Hawke did close the gap between them, one large warm hand gripping Cullen’s arm. “Maker, Cullen. No wonder you hate mages.”

Cullen closed his eyes and forced himself not to lean into Hawke’s solid warmth. He’d left his armour back in his rooms with his sword and he could feel the heat of Hawke’s hand through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t hate mages,” he said quietly. “I… I did for a while. Hated and feared them. But I… I don’t anymore. Haven’t for a while. I’ll admit I’m _wary_ about magic but I don’t hate or fear mages anymore.”

Hawke snorted. “Don’t blame you for being wary. You’ve seen… _experienced_ … the worst it can do and the idiots in Kirkwall didn’t help with that, I’m sure.” He eyed Cullen curiously. “What changed your mind though? It can’t have been Meredith. If you’d been listening to her, you’d have gone the other way. Ended up as another Alrik. Or another Meredith.”

Cullen blushed and ducked his head. “It was you actually,” he admitted.

“ _Me_?” Hawke looked startled. “I could barely get my friends to agree on the time of day. How did I manage to convince _you_ to change your mind about mages after everything you’d been through and all the trouble I caused?”

Cullen smiled wryly. “You kept challenging me when I said something stupid. You never backed down. And you… you were the Champion. I could see from your example that the things I kept thinking about mages couldn’t be right. You weren’t trying to take over. You weren’t trying to use your magic to rule over everyone.” He chuckled. “You kept trying to _avoid_ any suggestions that you do so.”

“Maker, could you imagine _me_ as Viscount?” Hawke said, rolling his eyes with a comical expression. “I’d be terrible at it.”

“You’d be better than Meredith,” Cullen replied with a grin.

“A goat would have been better than Meredith,” Hawke responded tartly, then he laughed. “Actually you would make a better Viscount than me.”

Cullen winced. “I… doubt it. I don’t do well with nobility.”

“You do alright with Trevelyan,” Hawke said with a raised eyebrow.

“Trevelyan is… Trevelyan,” Cullen said with a shrug. He couldn’t explain it better than that. He often forgot Maxwell Trevelyan was a noble until someone addressed him as ‘My Lord’.

“That he is.”

Hawke let go of his arm and leaned against the wall beside Cullen. He could feel the man’s warmth through his shirt. It was very comforting and he had to fight not to lean into it.

“He’s doing good work here,” Hawke said quietly. “Better than I ever could.”

“You don’t know that.”

Hawke snorted. “Yes, I do. I hated being the Champion, Cullen. I just wanted to look after my friends and family. Nothing more. Being Champion, having to go to all of those fancy parties, I hated every minute of it. The only thing I liked about being Champion was the protection it gave me and that I could butt into those arguments between Orsino and Meredith.”

Cullen frowned. “Varric’s story about Orsino…”

Hawke laughed and nudged against Cullen’s shoulder, inviting him to join in the joke. “I know. He pulled out a real whopper for that one. I can’t believe that people actually fell for it. You know, I owe Varric ten gold pieces for that. Still haven’t paid him. I told him no one would believe Orsino turned himself into some sort of demonic monstrosity but they did.”

Cullen shook his head and chuckled. “I knew Orsino had done some esoteric research in directions that had Meredith almost frothing at the mouth but that just seemed a bit farfetched.” He gave Hawke a curious look. “Where is he?”

“Safe,” Hawke said smugly then he sighed. “He’s looking after Anders for me.”

“Wait… I thought…” Cullen frowned. “I heard that you… killed Anders.”

“Yeah, I heard that rumour had gotten started,” Hawke said grimly. “I told Varric not to deny it and got Orsino and Anders out of the city. Anders and Justice aren’t… coping well with each other at the moment. I’m not sure if it’s got anything to do with what happened with the Chantry or whether it’s a side effect of a living person hosting a spirit for as long as Anders has.” He sighed and looked very worried. “I suppose it doesn’t matter really. He’s… unstable and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Have you spoken to Solas or Cole?” Cullen asked. “Solas knows a great deal about spirits and Cole…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, Cole _is_ a spirit if I understand the matter correctly.”

Hawke gave a start. “Wait… Cole’s possessing someone?”

“No.” Cullen shook his head. “I don’t know the details but somehow Cole has managed to… manifest here in our world on his own. Solas might be able to give you a better explanation.”

Hawke scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “Can they be trusted not to say anything?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“I’ll do that then.” Hawke sighed and nudged Cullen’s shoulder. “Thanks. For the information. And for not saying anything about Orsino and Anders.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “When did I promise that last bit?”

He found himself on the receiving end of a particularly devastating pair of puppy eyes and he couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t see the passing pair of soldiers stared at him for a moment then turn away, hiding their own smiles, though not before they gave Hawke little nods of approval.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen said with he got himself under control. “Is that how you dealt with you friends? By giving them that look?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hawke said loftily, though there was a smile playing around his lips. “I do not give people pathetic begging looks that I learned from my Mabari.”

Cullen chuckled and shook his head. “I won’t say a word about Orsino and Anders if you promise not to look at me like that again.”

“I’m not sure I can actually promise that,” Hawke said ruefully. “But I’ll say yes anyway.”

Cullen sobered and nudged Hawke with his shoulder. “I won’t say anything. I can’t say I’m happy with what Anders did but… he wasn’t wrong about the problems with the Circle.”

“Can I tell Anders you said that?” Hawke asked with a worrying sort of grin. “He’ll never believe me but I want to see the look on his face first.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t stop you,” Cullen said dryly.

Hawke gave him an odd look. “You could. If you didn’t want me to mention it, I wouldn’t. I know I come across as an arse at times but I like to think I’m not a _complete_ arse.”

“I…” Cullen ducked his head. “Tell him if you like. As you said, he won’t believe you.”

“Cullen, I…” Hawke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m making a bit of a hash of this, aren’t I?”

Cullen frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to make it seem like I’m prioritising him over you.”

Cullen’s frown deepened. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s your friend.”

“So are you!” Hawke said intently. “I mean… I hope you are. I’d like you to be. I’d like you to be more than that actually…” Hawke broke off and clapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified. He lowered his hand as his expression became rather beseeching. “Um, I mean…”

“You…” Cullen licked his lips. “All the… everything you’ve been doing. Have you been… courting me?”

“Um, yes?” Hawke said, looking like a very hopeful puppy who then became a rather sad puppy. “I can stop if you want.”

“Er, no. I mean, yes.” Cullen made a frustrated noise. “I… I don’t want you to stop.”

Hawke’s face lit up again. “You don’t? So it’s okay if I kiss you?”

Cullen blinked. “You… want to do that?”

Hawke rolled his eyes. “No, Cullen. I went to all the trouble to court you so that we can stand here babbling at each other. Of course I want to kiss you! I want to do a lot of things to you. With you. With your complete and utter participation.”

Hawke probably would have babbled on for some time except that Cullen leaned in and kissed him. Hawke continued to talk for a few seconds before he realised what was going on and return the favour. He cradled Cullen’s face and deepened the kiss until he drew a low whimper from the other man. He then shifted his attention and nipped and kissed his way along Cullen’s jaw and down his neck. Cullen was gripping Hawke’s sides tightly as he tilted his head to allow the other man better access.

It was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye that drew Cullen out of the moment. He pulled back, ignoring Hawke’s low grumble, and looked over to where the movement had come from just in time to see two of his guards hastily disappearing back into the tower. He drew in a sharp breath and that was enough to have Hawke stop and look at him.

“Cullen?”

Cullen licked his lips and blushed. “I, uh… this isn’t the best place for this… but I…” His gaze flickered over to the tower again.

Hawke’s smile was soft and understanding as he looked over to the tower himself. “I guess we should both get some sleep, eh?”

“I… yes,” Cullen replied. He was aware he hadn’t let go of Hawke just yet and he didn’t want to but he also didn’t want to rush this.

Hawke leaned in and kissed him again, just once more, soft and sweet. “I’ll let you do that then.”

He reluctantly pulled away and with a last happy smile, he headed back towards the rooms he’d been assigned. Cullen watched him go until the door closed behind him then he shook his head and pushed himself off the wall. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get to sleep tonight but if he did, he had some hope that his dreams might be a bit more pleasant than usual.

*****

When Cullen went down to breakfast the next morning, he almost turned tail and escaped back to his office. The moment he stepped into the dining hall where the Inquisitor, his Inner Circle and the Advisors all ate, he was greeted with a tableau of grinning faces and glee-filled eyes. Only the fact that Hawke was already there and smiling at him softly made him keep going and sit down next to the apostate mage.

“The way gossip spreads in this place is truly frightening,” Hawke murmured in his ear with a rueful laugh. “I never said a word to them. They already knew.”

Cullen sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Sleep well last night, Commander?” Trevelyan asked innocently as Dorian chortled at his side.

“No, actually,” Cullen said blandly as he served himself some breakfast. “But my walk along the battlements was very pleasant.”

Trevelyan snickered. “I’ll bet it was.”

“Your pardon, Inquisitor?” Cullen said, still in that bland tone though he knew his cheeks were pink.

“Nothing, Commander,” Trevelyan replied, sensing he wasn’t going to get a rise out of Cullen about this. He smiled more genuinely this time. “I’m glad it was pleasant.”

“You’re much better at that than I was,” Hawke murmured. “I sort of forgot how to put a sentence together for a moment, so I kind of gave us away.”

“I’m sure they’ll get me later,” Cullen replied.

He was distracted by a question about the Western Approach and had to hurry off to find the answer sooner than he wanted. He didn’t see Hawke move to sit next to Varric.

Hawke stared at the departing Commander for a moment then clutched at his friend’s sleeve and gave him a little shake, his eyes wide and almost comically frantic. “Varric! You have to help me.”

“You know, Hawke, that’s a phrase that never fails to fill me with trepidation,” Varric said with a grin. “What’s up?”

“Dinner,” Hawke replied firmly. “As in romantic.”

Varric’s eyes lit up. “For Curly? You’ve got it bad, Hawke.”

“You know I always thought he was easy on the eyes.”

“True.”

“It’s just that he was an enormous arse at the same time which kind of diminished any attraction.”

Varric looked like he was struggling not to laugh. “And now?”

“He’s perfect,” Hawke said beatifically.

Varric snorted. “I think he’d argue with you there.”

Hawke waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”

“Scarily, yes, I do,” Varric replied. “So a nice romantic dinner for you and Curly, eh?”

“Did I hear romantic dinner?” Trevelyan asked, leaning forward.

“You certainly did,” Varric replied and then started laughing as the rest of the group at the table all looked interested. “Hawke wants to woo Curly.”

Trevelyan frowned. “Isn’t he already doing that?”

“I am,” Hawke said. “This is like… the end game. Or not the _end_ but you know, stepping things up to the next level to show him I’m serious about this.”

“The garden would be the perfect place,” Josephine said eagerly. “Where Cullen and Dorian normally play chess.”

“We’d have to clear everyone out but that wouldn’t be too difficult,” Leliana added.

“What about a minstrel?” Josephine asked.

“No, my dear,” Vivienne said with a wave of her hand. “The Commander would feel inhibited with someone else around. No, this needs to be just the two of them.”

“No Orlesian food,” Dorian said. “I don’t think he’d appreciate it.”

“He’s not a barbarian,” Hawke objected.

“No but he likes simpler food,” Josephine said thoughtfully. “Look at those sugar biscuits he likes so much.”

Leliana chuckled. “I have some ideas. I’ll speak to the cooks.”

“Wait,” Hawke objected. “Do I get a say in any of this?”

Vivienne arched an eyebrow. “You _were_ asking us for help, weren’t you, dear?”

Hawke looked nonplussed. “I, well, yes, I suppose I was but I don’t want this getting over-complicated.”

Josephine patted him on the hand. “It won’t.”

The three women got to their feet and hurried off. Trevelyan watched them go and gave Dorian a nudge. “We’ll go and keep their plans somewhere on this side of complicated,” he said to Hawke.

Hawke watched them go then buried his face in his hands with a groan. “What have I done?”

“There, there,” Varric said, patting his shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

“Me and my boys’ll keep the Commander busy,” Bull said with a grin. “Blackwall? Give us a hand?”

The Warden nodded and joined Bull as he left the room. Solas, who had been watching all of this with restrained amusement, also got up.

“Oh, wait,” Hawke said. He paused and looked around shiftily which made Varric start laughing. Hawke ignored him. “Can I speak to you, Solas? About… um, something important.”

“Of course,” Solas said and Hawke appreciated the fact that the elven mage wasn’t laughing at his face.

“Varric…?” Hawke said, turning back to his friend.

Varric waved a hand. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”

******

Cullen was well aware that something was going on. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t entirely oblivious and even if he was, Bull wasn’t exactly subtle. Also there was a certain amount of frantic scurrying going on every time he even poked his nose out of his office and if he did more than that, he was being carefully steered away from certain areas of Skyhold. He might have been worried about that except that Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra were all involved and he was confident that they would have put a stop to anything that was likely to be humiliating.

After the third time he was distracted from going into the main building by the Chargers, he decided to play along and busy himself in his office for the rest of the day. He had no idea what was going on but everyone seemed to be working very hard at it and far be it for him to spoil their fun.

Needless to say, he was less than surprised when Cassandra suddenly appeared in his office and gave him a firm look with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You should get changed,” she said bluntly. “Out of the armour and into something nice.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “If I ask why, am I going to get an answer?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Very well then.”

He set aside his quill and made his way up into his room upstairs. He pulled off his armour and took a few minutes to give himself a sketchy wash from the basin he kept in his room. He pulled on his best shirt and his only good tunic and brushed down his breeches and boots. He combed his hair back into place and decided that his stubble could stay how it was. He then descended the ladder and raised his eyebrow at Cassandra again.

“Do I pass muster?”

Cassandra made a small noise then nodded. “You’ll do. Come on.”

Cullen waited until she’d turned away before allowing himself to grin. Then he sobered and walked with her over to the main building and through the door towards the gardens. Cassandra stopped at the door and nodded to him.

“I’ll leave you here. Enjoy your evening.”

Cullen watched her go then shook his head and chuckled. He pushed the door open and walked out into a… very transformed garden. The garden was normally fairly utilitarian but tonight the bushes and plants had been festooned with what looked like wisps and mage lights. A carpet, of all things, had been rolled out, forming a path towards the gazebo where he usually played chess with Dorian. And waiting in the gazebo, shifting nervously from foot to foot, was Hawke.

Cullen stared at all of this for a moment then he slowly walked along the carpet towards Hawke. As he got closer, he saw that the chess table had been transformed into a proper table that was laden with what looked like a large number of his favourite foods.

“Um, hi,” Hawke said with a hopeful smile.

Cullen stared at him, his cheeks going very pink. This was… very romantic and apparently all for him. He couldn’t quite figure out what to say. They’d come to the barest of agreements the previous night and it was mostly an unspoken agreement. So to find _this_ being set up for him was… a little overwhelming.

His continued silence made Hawke’s face fall and the man suddenly looked rather panicked. “Um… sorry?”

Cullen swallowed hard. “Uh… no! No. There’s… there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Hawke nodded but looked rather unhappy. “But you don’t like it.”

Cullen stepped forward and took Hawke’s hand. “I love it. I just…” He drew in a deep breath and wished for the blush that he knew was colouring his cheeks to go away. “Wasn’t expecting it.”

“You deserve it,” Hawke said earnestly. He pulled Cullen towards the table. “Shall we?”

Cullen looked at everything that had been set up and shook his head with a small chuckle. “One thing first.” He closed the gap between them and pulled Hawke into a kiss. “Now we can eat.”

Hawke’s smile was brilliant as they sat down, and for the first time since the mage had appeared at Skyhold, Cullen felt like he knew where he stood with the man and he liked it.


End file.
